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User blog:TKandMit/Grand Theft Wiki: The Cure
“This is the family business, right?” Jason asked as Tim froze. Although he knew questions like these were bound to happen, he had no time to prepare. “Uhh, yeah, Neil’s been uh, real sick the last couple days. At Lak Hospital; some real bad nasal thing, yeah… anyway, you need a car, right? Yeah I got ya…” hastily moving on from explanation to service, Tim sold Jason a brand new car in return for a large check. Tim pocketed the check and closed up shop. Pulling his motorcycle out onto the driveway, Tim took a final glance at the parking lot, covered in dry oil. “Sigh… god fucking damn it.” Pulling out his phone, Tim dialed his good friend and fellow band member Trent Matthews. “Uhh, hey Tim, what’s up… yo it’s fuckin’ midnight, what’s going on?” the rapper asked his friend. “Hey Trent, sorry for bothering you but… can you look over the shop for a few days? I need to take care of some out-of-town business. Shit’s going down and all the like. Can you take over?” After a minute of talking, Trent agreed on running the store. With a sigh, Tim said “Thanks, man.” and drove home. Groggily walking to the bathroom, Tim noticed dirt and oil all over him. “Shit, that definitely seems suspicious.” Tim said, realizing that Jason saw him so unkempt. Throwing his clothes in the wash, Tim made his way to his bedroom, collapsing on the mattress. Tim drove to the bank the following afternoon to cash in the check. Parking his motorcycle, Tim noticed Jason’s brand new car several spots away. Walking inside, he cashed the check in and went on with his business. Before leaving, Jason walked past and noticed Tim; “Oh, hey Tim, I love that car. Thanks for selling it to me! You look a lot better out of all that dirt and oil last night, you were probably working on a car or something right? Your father doing any better?” Jason asked, wishing to make small talk. Lying again, Tim nodded and said “Talked to him last night, he’s doing better… although he may have to stay at the hospital for awhile.” Instantly making the scene awkward, Tim decided to just leave. Exiting the bank with his money, Tim sat at his bike. “Fucking shit… I need to get ahold of Dan and Tyger.” Opening a conference call, Tim told the two to meet him at a gun store not too far away from Scrawland Mall. “We’re going to the gun range. I just cashed in a few checks and I think we have enough to get us some guns. Like, rifles and SMGs and shit. Meet me there in 30 minutes.” Soon enough, the three amigos were back together. Walking inside the gun store, BB's Gun Studios, they were greeted by the owner. With a thick Southern drawl, the owner greeted the trio “Well well well, three boys that look like they up to no good. I love it. Whatchu three want? Sidearms; I got the good ol’ .44 Magnum, a Colt Revolver, a .22 if you a pussy or some shit, whatchu need, y’all?” Immediately Tyger let out a laugh, “Hehehe, are we really doing this shit, Tim? This alone is craz-“ but was interrupted by the biker. “Yeah, I already got a pistol right here, I’ll need ammo and shit for that. We need big guns. Shotties, AKs, Uzis… shit like that.” Tim ordered, leaning onto the owner’s glass case desk with a blank face. The owner removed a smirk from his face and matched Tim’s serious mood. “Y’all mean business, huh. Well, I won’t be one to get in y’all’s way. I assume y’all got no firearm licenses, but hell, no one who comes in here does,” the man said as he took his keys and unlocked the glass case, pulling out several rifles and shotguns. “Shootin’ range’s in the back.” He finished, nodding his head over to the right, acknowledging a door that was labeled “RANGE”. “Ey, Tim, is it? S’good to meet y’all. Y’all can call me The Truth.” The owner stated, putting out his hand for a handshake. After a handshake and taking the guns, the three waddled over towards the shooting range. During reloading and aiming at new targets, the three discussed. “Just imagine these targets as those Neanderthals, Tim.” Dan joked. “I know, Danny. I already did; twice actually.” He replied. Tyger joined in, “So uh, I know this all revenge and shit, but since those Mind and Four guys are dead, didn’t we already kind of win?” Tim pulled a magazine of ammunition out of his carbine, allowing Dan to reply: “Well, we’re a part of the Dynasty again and we will do what we have to t-“ “No. They’re like a virus. Once something starts it’s hard to get rid of it. And we’re the cure.” Tim said, reloading. In a half hour, the three were on the road, Tim leading them from his motorcycle. By now, the sun was setting and night was closing in. Back in Flynnwood, the three slowly approached with their headlights off. Tyger and Dan parked the car in a back alley, and Tim entered a cul-de-sac. Tim grabbed his phone and selected a song folder. Plugging an aux cord into his bike’s radio, a top of the line piece he installed himself, a song played. “Motherfucking Neanderthals” looped on this track. Gang members started hearing the music and wandered over to the source of the noise, where a blinding headlight shined on them all of a sudden. “Now!” a voice yelled out, as tire screeches and gunfire filled the air. Lol no decision making this time Category:Blog posts